3. Noah
3
NOAH
T he day after our first big win, I walk into the Howl Center for practice. The familiar scent of ice and sweat hits me like a wave, a reminder that this is home. As I lace up my skates, I spot the reporter girl from last night setting up her camera and notepad in the press area.
Her presence makes my stomach do a little flip like It does right before a big game—an odd feeling considering I'm not one to get nervous. I shake it off, focusing on the drills ahead.
Coach Bergman’s whistle slices through the air, echoing off the rink walls. "Alright, ladies," he barks, eyes narrowing as he spots her over in the press area. "We seem to have an audience today, so let’s not embarrass ourselves."
His gaze lingers on me, and I give him my trademark grin. "Don't worry, Coach. I’m always ready to put on a show."
He rolls his eyes but doesn’t comment further. We start with sprints, the sound of skates cutting through ice fills the arena. The burn in my thighs feels good, a reminder of why I love this sport.
Coach blows the whistle again, and we switch to puck handling drills. I weave through the cones with ease, focusing on precision and speed. My muscles are a well-oiled machine, each movement sharp and deliberate.
"Keep it tight, Kane," Bergman snaps as he skates past me.
"You got it, I like it tight," I reply with a grin, flicking the puck effortlessly into the goal. I can almost sense his eyeroll from here.
During a brief break between drills, Cooper, another teammate sidles up to me. "You think Coach is more pissed about the reporter chick, or the fact that his coffee machine broke this morning?"
"Probably both," I say, grabbing my water bottle.
Cooper snorts. "Yay, lucky us."
We’re back at it before long, this time running power play scenarios. I take my position on the right wing, eyes scanning the ice for openings. Liam passes me the puck and I shoot it past our goalie with a flick of my wrist.
"Nice one!" Liam shouts.
I shrug nonchalantly. "Thanks O' great one!"
The drill shifts to penalty kills next—my specialty. Coach’s eyes are practically drilling holes into my back as I block shot after shot. Reporter girl is probably watching too; can’t afford any screw-ups.
As practice winds down, I look towards the stands. There she is, watching the team intently, scribbling notes like her life depends on it. Coach dismisses us with a sharp whistle, and I decide to seize the moment. Skating over to where she's standing by the boards, I remove my helmet and run a hand through my sweat-dampened hair.
"Hi there," I say, my boyish grin firmly in place. "I'm Noah. Don't think we've been formally introduced."
She looks up, her bright green eyes meeting mine. "Olivia," she replies, shaking my extended gloved hand with a smile that shows off those adorable dimples. "Great practice out there. I'm impressed."
"Thanks," I say, trying to sound casual while feeling oddly pleased.
"Mind if I ask you a few questions?" She asks meekly.
I smile at Olivia's interest, ready to dive into her questions, when Liam skates up, his presence commanding as always.
"Hey, Olivia," he says, his tone friendly but with an undercurrent of possessiveness that I immediately pick up on. "Some of us are grabbing a bite to eat. Want to join? Could give you some inside scoop for your article."
Liam’s eyes flick to me, a mixture of challenge and reluctance in his gaze. "You coming too, man?"
I hesitate for a split second, torn between my loyalty to Liam and my desire to get to know Olivia. "Yeah, sounds good," I finally say, meeting Liam's gaze steadily.
"Great," Liam says, turning back to Olivia with a smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes.
The three of us head to the local sports bar down the block. It is buzzing with the usual post-practice crowd. The walls are lined with memorabilia—signed jerseys, framed photos of legendary plays, and a few too many neon beer signs. The smell of fried food and the sound of clinking glasses fill the air. It's a popular spot for the team, but tonight it feels different with Olivia in tow.
We slide into a booth near the back, away from the rowdier sections. Olivia sits across from me and Liam, her notebook out but her attention fully on our conversation. I’m hyper-aware of her presence, every movement she makes, every flicker of those bright green eyes.
Other teammates start trickling into the bar, but they give us our space, sensing this isn’t just a casual hangout.
"So," Olivia continues, looking between us, "what’s the dynamic like on the team? How do you guys handle pressure?"
Liam and I exchange glances before he answers. "We rely on each other a lot," he says simply.
I nod again. "Yeah, we’ve been through enough together to know we’ve got each other’s backs."
Olivia’s pen flies across the page as she writes down our answers. She looks up again, curiosity shining in her eyes. "You two have known each other since childhood, right?"
Liam leans back, crossing his arms over his chest. "Yeah, Noah's been stuck with me since we were kids."
I laugh at that. "More like you've been stuck with me."
Lunch continues with a buzz of conversation and laughter. I can’t help but notice how Olivia’s eyes sparkle with curiosity as she listens to Liam recounting his puck-stopping stats. He’s leaning forward, elbows on the table, that intense gaze of his locked onto her.
“So, last season I had a .930 save percentage,” Liam says, a hint of pride in his voice. “It’s all about positioning and reading the play before it happens.”
“Impressive,” Olivia says, scribbling something in her notebook.
“Yeah, but do you remember that game against the Thunderhawks?” I cut in, leaning back casually. “I made that crucial assist to Cooper that won us the game in the last second.”
Liam gives me a sidelong glance, his jaw tightening slightly. “Right,” he says slowly. “That was a good game.”
Olivia looks up from her notes, eyes flicking between us. “Sounds like you both have your moments.”
I grin at her. “We try.” Then I shift gears, sensing an opportunity to steer the conversation my way. “I’ve been working with local youth hockey programs recently. It’s great seeing those kids get excited about the sport.”
Her eyes light up with genuine interest. “That’s amazing! How did you get involved?”
“I just decided one day that I wanted to give back,” I say with a shrug. “Plus, it keeps me grounded.”
Liam clears his throat, clearly not wanting to be outdone. “The team does a lot of community outreach too,” he adds smoothly. “We visit hospitals, organize charity events… It’s important for us to connect with our fans and give back.”
“Absolutely,” Olivia agrees, jotting down more notes.
As the conversation flows, it becomes clear we’re both vying for her attention without really acknowledging it. When Liam talks about his many accolades, I counter with stories of my own.
"So, how do you handle the pressure, Noah?" Olivia asks, her eyes locking onto mine with genuine curiosity. Her pen hovers above the notebook, ready to capture my every word.
I lean back in the booth, stretching my arms along the top of the seat. "Pressure? That's just part of the game," I say with a casual shrug. "You learn to thrive on it. It’s what makes those penalty kills so exhilarating."
Liam scoffs lightly. "Yeah, some of us thrive on it. Others just get lucky."
I shoot him a playful glare. "Luck's got nothing to do with it, Makar. It's all skill."
Olivia's eyes dart between us, a knowing smile playing on her lips. "Seems like there's a bit of rivalry here," she says, scribbling something down.
Liam smirks. "Rivalry? Nah, just friendly competition." He glances at me, his expression softening slightly.
"That’s what makes us a great team," I say, unable to resist a small grin. "We balance each other out."
"Speaking of balance," she says, looking up from her notes again, "how do you manage your personal lives with such demanding careers?"
Liam and I exchange another glance.
"It's tough," Liam admits after a moment. "You have to make sacrifices."
"Yeah," I agree, feeling a pang of empathy for my friend. "But it's worth it when you love what you do."
Her eyes soften as she listens intently. There's something about her—an intelligence and genuine interest that draws me in.
"What about relationships?" she asks carefully.
I don't hesitate to answer, sparing Liam the option to speak. "Hockey doesn’t leave much room for that kind of thing," I say honestly.
Liam's jaw tightens slightly but he nods in agreement. "It’s hard to find someone who understands the lifestyle."
She writes something down again before looking up with those bright green eyes that seem to see right through me.
"It must be challenging," she says softly.
"It is," Liam says quietly.
Our food arrives then—a welcome distraction to the heavy subject we were headed towards—so we dive into burgers and fries with gusto.
Between bites I can’t help but notice the easy rapport between Liam and Olivia. They’re laughing at some inside joke about a game from last season, and it’s clear Liam’s enjoying himself. He leans in closer, his eyes never leaving hers. It’s like watching a perfectly executed play unfold—smooth, effortless, and with a clear goal in mind.
The realization that I’m attracted to the same woman as Liam hits me like a slap shot to the gut. Guilt gnaws at me—Liam’s my best friend, practically a brother—but there’s also this spark whenever Olivia’s eyes meet mine that I can’t ignore.
“So, what do you think of our chances this season?” Liam asks her, steering the conversation back to safer territory.
Olivia tilts her head thoughtfully. “You guys have a strong team. If you keep playing like you did last night, I think you’ve got a real shot at the championship.”
“That’s what we like to hear,” I say with a grin.
Liam chuckles. “We’ll do our best not to disappoint.”
As they continue talking strategy and stats, I find myself watching Olivia more closely. She’s passionate about her work, and it shows in every question she asks and every note she scribbles down. There’s something incredibly attractive about that kind of dedication.
“So Noah,” she says suddenly, turning her attention back to me. “What do you do when you’re not on the ice?”
“Me? Oh, you know... hiking, fishing... basically anything outdoorsy,” I say with a shrug.
“Really? That sounds amazing,” she says genuinely interested.
“It is,” I reply. “Maybe one day I’ll show you some of my favorite spots.”
She smiles warmly at that. "I’d like that."
The moment hangs between us for just a second too long before Liam clears his throat.
“Well," he says with forced cheerfulness, "we should probably get going soon if we want to catch conditioning tonight."
“Right, you definitely don't want to miss that,” Olivia agrees, gathering her notes. "Thanks for inviting me out today."
"Anytime," Liam says smoothly.
As we all stand up to leave, I catch Liam's eye again. There's something unspoken there—an understanding that we both know what's happening but neither of us willing to back down just yet.
As we head back toward our cars in silence, my mind races with conflicting emotions—loyalty to my best friend versus this undeniable attraction I'm starting to feel for Olivia.
It's going be one helluva season both on and off the ice.